


November for No One

by Draikinator



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dancing, F/F, fight me, gender stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:46:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draikinator/pseuds/Draikinator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Welcome to mtmte 41 Whirl is dancing and he sees Javelin and realizes she's freaking awesome and goes on a killer flirt mission</p>
            </blockquote>





	November for No One

Whirl was a fantastic dancer. Probably the best on the ship. Sure, his clunky, stabilizer-based leg structure made his movements bold and perhaps a bit abrasive (if the wide berth everyone was giving him was any indication) but he was certainly amazing. Though, that’s a bit unfair, because Whirl was objectively awesome at everything.

According to him, anyway.

He was fairly certain something was scrabbling along his seamlines, but Whirl was anything if not scarred and weld lines lacked a lot of the tactile awareness of clean metal- beyond that he was fairly used to the phantom feeling of crawling and because no one seemed to be staring at him more strangely than usual, he brushed the feeling off as a minor hallucination, and focused on his steps.

One, two, wing transformation, fold up, three, four, spin your rotors-

Holy shit.

Who the fuck was that?

He w- okay, she was dancing a few squarea away, an awkward, jarring motion that indicated she had no idea what she was doing, but it was attractive nonetheless. Whirl’s rotors slowed.

He didn’t know much about the aliens from Caminus, the supposed colonists, other than the whole ‘she’ thing which made his platelets shiver, because while Nautica had given a (yawn) riveting speech on why she called herself a 'girl’ and while that part sounded pretty neat and he was starting to think maybe he liked this whole 'girl’ thing, the weird pronoun set his claws on edge.

But oh man that weird alien girl with the one optic was dancing like a marrionette controlled by a dog having a seizure and that just wouldn’t do. Not with a fine root mode like that.

He sidestepped toward her across the floor’s glimmering squares, the clacking of his pedes masked by the throbbing of the dance music, the crowd parting like sea in the earth cartoon he liked, the Dreamworks one, all but the alien girl who didn’t know well enough to avoid him.

“Yo, one eye!” He said, sliding in front of her. She jerked to a stop mid motion and cocked her head at him, slim optic pulsing lightly, indicating she was looking him up and down. He shifted pedes and lifted his claws, rotors spinning, “Wanna dance?”

She shifted, shoulders slipping back, before she nodded, optic softening, and Whirl pounded both pedes on the floor with a holler like one of those tv cowboys, “Awright!”

“Oh, Primus,” hissed Swerve, behind him, “Don’t be nice to him, he’ll take it personally.”

Whirl kicked him, a quick jab directly backward that launched him hard enough into Skids that they both tumbled to the floor.

“Whoops,” said Whirl, shrugging, “Ah, yo, didn’t catch your name.”

The girl laughed, single optic flaring with her field, “Javelin.”

**Author's Note:**

> I HATE EVERY WHIRL SHIP BUT I AM WHIRL I AM SO DESPERate


End file.
